


(A Sequel for the Sequel)

by NarryMusings



Series: Denial, The Series [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Narry - Freeform, like a stupid amount of fluff, narry storan - Freeform, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:58:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3967024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryMusings/pseuds/NarryMusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets of Harry and Niall being out with their friends and family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(A Sequel for the Sequel)

**Author's Note:**

> This was just after-the-fact sort of thing I had to write because I wanted Niall and Harry to be happy.

Niall follows the smell of spaghetti sauce into the kitchen, a Swiffer duster in one hand. Harry’s standing at the counter, back to him, chopping vegetables whilst the sauce in the pot on the stove next to him simmers. He’s been cooking and baking for most of the afternoon, meanwhile Niall had decided to tackle cleaning the entire flat from top to bottom.

Anne, her fiancé Robin and Harry’s sister Gemma are in London for a visit and they’re due to arrive for dinner at any time.

Niall slides up behind Harry, curls his free arm around Harry’s waist; Harry sort of melts against him, then, and a soft, satisfied hum rumbles in his throat. He looks around Harry’s shoulder, watches as his boyfriend gathers tiny pieces of chopped onions in both hands before dropping them into the pot.

Harry turns slightly, presses his lips to Niall’s cheekbone. “Are you nervous?” he asks softly.

“No, not at all,” Niall says – a little too quickly.

“It’s ok if you are,” Harry insists, reaching for a spoon off the counter to stir the onions into the sauce. “I am, a bit.”

“Yeah,” Niall breathes, letting his arm drop to his side as he takes a step back and leans against the island behind him. “Me too.”

Harry sets the spoon in a ladle holder turning to face him. He closes the gap between them, hands on Niall’s hips as he presses his body flush against Niall’s. “Everything’s going to be fine. It’s not like they don’t already know.”

“I know,” Niall murmurs.

“My mum loves you,” Harry reminds him, rubbing his thumbs over both of Niall’s hips. “And I’m pretty sure Gemma’s always like  _you_  better than  _me_  anyway.”

“I just,” Niall starts, a sigh slipping through his lips, “I guess I’m just worried it’s going to be awkward.”

The brunette smirks, raises his eyebrows. “Niall. The awkward part is already over. They  _know_ , we’ve all talked about it. It’s not going to be awkward.”

“It might be-”

“It won’t be,” Harry insists. “Besides, nothing will ever be more awkward than knowing Maura knew I hadn’t slept in the guest room the night before she arrived.”

Niall smirks, gazing up at him fondly.

As if on cue, a loud  _buzz_  erupts from the buzzer next to the front door and Harry’s whole face lights up like a kid in a candy store. “Add the celery and stir the sauce a bit, yeah; I’ll go get them.”

Niall nods, let’s Harry step away and leave the kitchen before he does as he’s been told. The butterflies in his stomach have come to life and, honestly, he doesn’t even know why he’s so nervous because Harry’s right. It’s not like Harry’s family – both of their families – don’t already know about them. And it’s not like Niall hasn’t known Anne and Gemma for over half his life already. He’s well aware he has no  _real_  reason to be jealous. It just sort of feels like he’s meeting Anne (and Gemma and even Robin) for the first time all over again - only this time he feels like he has to impress them as Harry’s  _boyfriend_  rather than his  _best friend_.

Anne is the first to cross the room towards Niall, throws her arms around his neck and just about turns into a blubbering mess. Niall’s eyes widen has he glances over his shoulder at Harry, whom smirks, as he curls his own around her back tightly. He lets out a long breath, then – one he didn’t even know he’d been holding, as he sort of melts into her warm, motherly embrace. He’s always liked Anne’s hugs, always thought of her as a second mother growing up anyway. And this is a hug he didn’t know he’d needed until now.

“I’m so happy for you, my two favourite boys,” she murmurs in her ear.

“Ok – come now, mother,” Gemma says, ushering Anne to let him go. “Let the poor boy go,” she continues, only to wrap her own arms around him in a tight embrace. “I always did like  _you_  better.”

Niall laughs as they both pull away, rolls his eyes when Harry gives him a  _Told you so_  look over his sister’s shoulder.

Robin steps forward to shake his hand, then, as Harry squeezes by all of them to tend to the sauce, which Niall had forgotten all about during the greetings.

The blond excuses himself to put the swiffer duster he’d placed on the counter earlier away – and when he returns, it’s to find all four of them standing now comfortably in the kitchen. Harry, with Anne’s help, is now preparing the lasagna in a glass dish on the counter next to the stove and both Gemma and Robin and claimed a stool on the other side of the island. They’re all talking and laughing – and although Harry gets comfortable rather easily where he is, all the time, there’s something about seeing him with his family that’s always really refreshing.

It reminds Niall of all the times he’d spend in the Styles’ home as a kid; in the morning after sleeping over, during dinner, having a movie night in the living room. The Styles’ house had always been a second home for Niall; he’d always felt like he belonged there.

Now,  _years_  later, in the middle of his own kitchen and although almost everything about his relationship with Harry has changed, he’s incredibly happy to find that nothing’s changed.

X

They don’t mean for it to happen, really. They have every intention of keeping the PDA to a minimum – a little handholding here, a casual kiss there, if for no other reason to not torture Liam, Louis or Zayn with affection overload. The thing is, they have a habit of not being able to keep their hands off each other now that they don’t feel like they have to – which means movie nights and footie games with the lads always seem to end with them becoming so preoccupied with each other that they forget about everyone else.

“Oh here we go,” Liam mutters, nudging Louis in the elbow while Louis’ head is turned, talking to Zayn.

Harry’s vaguely aware of it, hears the groans from across the table – but then Niall licks into his mouth and fists a hand in his hair and, Jesus, Harry doesn’t want to think about anything else. Ever. If Niall wants to kiss him, especially in  _public_ , then who is he to protest?

“Oh for God’s sake, lads!” Louis exclaims.

“Disgustin’,” Zayn teases, tossing a rolled-up napkin at them. It hits Niall in the side of the head but Niall ignores it in favour of deepening the kiss.

Harry moans in response, tugs slightly at the front of Niall’s shirt to pull him impossibly closer.

“Are you guys gonna be like this every time we go out now?” Louis scoffs. “Like, instead of lads night it’s gonna be Louis, Liam and Zayn night with a side of Niall and Harry snogging. We might as well just bring the girls along, then; we could have a snog fest.”

“We’re gonna have to split them up; split up lads night,” Liam says, a hint of teasing evident in his voice. “Like, one night it’ll be us and just one of them and then we’ll have to alternate.”

“Segregated lads time,” Zayn snickers in the corner.

 

“Twats can’t keep your hands to yourself for a few hours,“ Louis says, kicking his foot out under the table. His foot collides with one of Niall’s shins and he hopes it’s not his bummed leg; he finds out it isn’t, a second later, because Niall kicks back without incident.

Harry hums, pushing back against Niall’s chest. "Sorry – we’re sorry,” he insists when they pull apart, panting heavily. He settles back against the back of the booth as Niall sits back, arm curling instinctively around Harry’s shoulders.

“Honestly, we love you guys, and we’re all really happy you finally got your shit together and that _you’re_  happy,” Louis starts seriously, truthfully. “But why don’t you just take it the bathroom the way you used to so we don’t have to  _see_  it all the damn time? You haven’t done  _that_  in a while.”

Harry and Niall look at one another. Niall smirks, raising one eyebrow and Harry presses his teeth into his bottom lip as he raises both eyebrows of his own. And then they’re both scrambling; Niall practically pushes Harry all the way out of the booth and Harry, clumsy and awkward, nearly knocks over his pint in his haste to move. Niall grabs on to Harry’s hand the second both feet touch the floor and yanks him away from the table.

“That wasn’t – I was kidding!” Louis shouts after them as they disappear around the corner, giggling, hands roaming, whilst Liam and Zayn burst into affectionate laughs of their own.

“How long do you think they’ll be gone?” Liam wonders before taking a sip of his pint.

“The real question, Payno, is who’s gonna pretend they’re too tired to stay so they can go home early?”

“They’re in the honeymoon phase, leave ‘em be,” Zayn murmurs.

X

Harry and Niall return to Ireland a few months after for Anne’s and Robin’s wedding. Harry’s the best man, stands next to Robin at the alter and alternates between staring at his mother and finding Niall’s gaze in the second row during the whole ceremony. Anne is in happy tears the entire time – as is Gemma, whom stands next to her as her maid of honour and Harry isn’t that far off either.

They reception is in full swing; his mother and Robin are still dancing out on the dance floor next to Gemma and her new boyfriend, Maura’s talking to one of Harry’s aunts off in the corner, Bobby Horan and Harry’s biological father are animatedly talking about about football and the rest of Harry’s family are all scattered around the room - on the dance floor, at the snack table, in front of the bar – doing their own thing. The last time he’d seen Niall, the blond was off in the corner talking to Harry’s cousin, Matty, about music. And now, as he makes his way back to where he’d left them to fetch a few drinks, he finds himself a bit amused by the fact that Matty’s been replaced by one of Harry’s youngest cousins – 12 year-old Joshua Styles.

Niall’s suit jacket has been discarded, thrown over the back of the chair he’s sitting on, the first few buttons of his white shirt are undone, his tie’s been loosened and hair is a bit messy, mused from Niall pushing his hands through it all night. He’s sitting, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, in front of Joshua as though giving the boy his undivided attention. Joshua sort of mirrors him, his own suit jacket having been forgotten elsewhere, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he sits on his hands and kicks his feet back and forth beneath him.

Harry knows he probably shouldn’t eavesdrop - but then he hears his name being mentioned, even despite the music blaring on the other side of the room, and he ducks behind one of the tall tree-like decorations placed strategically around the room.

“So, if Harry’s  _your_  boyfriend then that means that you’re  _Harry’s_  boyfriend, right?” Joshua wonders, gazing across at the blond in front of him.

Niall nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That’s exactly right.”

“Does that make you  _my_  cousin too?”

“I suppose it does, if you want it to, yeah,” Niall smirks.

Harry holds his breath.

 “So, do you like girls or boys?”

“I like both; I just happened to like Harry a little bit more.”

Harry lets out a longer breath than necessary, feels heart skip several beats.

Joshua hums, looks down to watch his legs for a moment before he speaks again. “ _I_  like a boy too,” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” Niall asks. His voice raises, slightly, the way it does when he feels sudden excitement or interest in something. “What’s his name?”

Joshua looks back up at him, a shy smile tugging at his lips as a light blush crawls up his neck. “Thomas; he’s in my class.”

Niall grins as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you told him?”

“No…I don’t know if I should,” he mutters, less bouncy and more nervous. “Should I?”

Niall shrugs. “Do you want to?”

Joshua nods his head ever-so-slightly; Harry almost doesn’t it see it.

“Then you should go for it,” Niall tells him casually. He leans forward again, rests his elbows back on his knees as he straight across the gap at Joshua, face-to-face. “If I’ve learned anything about  _love_ , it’s to follow your heart.”

“What if he doesn’t like me the way I like him?”

“You gotta cross that road when you get to it, kid.”

“Is that what you did with Harry?”

“Not exactly,” Niall admits, shaking his head. “But it should’ve been.”

Joshua grins at him. “He really likes you, ya know. Like he  _loves_  you.”

Niall glances over Joshua’s shoulder and his gaze collides with Harry’s just as the brunette decides to come out from behind the tree. He looks back at Joshua and tilts his head to the side. “You reckon?”

Joshua nods enthusiastically, eyes wide and insisting.

Harry stands behind Joshua’s chair and places his hands on both of his cousin’s shoulders. “I hope you guys weren’t talking about me. That would be a bit rude.”

Joshua looks a bit sheepish, whilst Niall smirks, as he cranes his neck to look up at Harry. “Just nice things, we promise!”

Harry smiles down at him as he ruffles the boy’s messy hair with one hand. “That’s acceptable, then.”

A different, distinctly female voice speaks from behind Harry and all three boys turn to look at Joshua’s mother. “It’s time to go, love. Say goodnight.”

Joshua pouts but pushes himself to his feet anyway before bidding both Niall and Harry goodnight and then following his mother.

Harry’s gaze lands on Niall, who’s gaze is already trained on him. He smirks, takes a few steps forward until he’s standing between Niall’s spread legs as Niall leans back against the chair. He hands one of the glasses in his hand to Niall and raises the other to his to take a small sip. “So you only like me a  _little bit_  more, huh?”

Niall shrugs. “I mean, I guess.”

“You guess,” Harry murmurs, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure.”

Harry takes another sip from his glance, gazing at Niall over the rim the whole time before pushing a hand through his already messy hair. “Are you sure?”

The blond hums softly at the way Harry plays with his hair - and what’s nothing more than to thrust his own fingers through Harry’s hair. “Maybe a bit more than a little bit,” he murmurs.

Harry leans down, presses a soft, sweet kiss to Niall’s lips. Niall hums and smiles against Harry’s mouth in response and Harry laughs as he pulls away. He reaches for a chair beside Niall, then, pulls it close and sits next to him. Niall reaches for his hand and threads their fingers together whilst Harry leans against him and rests his chin on Niall’s shoulder.

His gaze finds his mother, who’s since finished with the dancing portion of the evening, has since kicked her shoes off to walk around in bare feet and is now simply mingling. She’s glowing – absolutely radiant and beautiful and-

“Your mum looks  _so happy_ ,” Niall says softly.

And, yeah, that’s the word Harry was looking for. He smiles to himself, hums his agreement in response.

“You know else is really happy? Like,  _really_  happy?”

“Robin.”

“No – well of course, but no.”

“Gemma.”

“Yes, but no.”

“Maura-”

“Shut up, you idiot,” Niall mutters, though Harry can hear the blatant teasing in his voice. He also swears he can hear Niall roll his eyes.

Harry pulls back, gazes sideways at Niall like he doesn’t already know the answer. “Who?”

Niall closes the gap between them, then, and captures Harry’s lips in his own. “Me,” he breathes into the kiss.

Harry deepens the kiss by curling one hand around the base of Niall’s neck to hold him close and tugging at Niall’s tie with his other hand to pull him even closer.

And if, a few years from now, during their own wedding, they both look back on this as the moment in which they knew they wanted to marry each other, then…nobody else  _really_  needs to know that. (Even if Niall happens to let it slip anyway.)


End file.
